My Lady the Pirate
by Holly-Batali
Summary: Slightly AU. After being backed into a corner in an air raid, Susan ends up, once again, in Narnia, where she becomes captain of the Sherwood and sets out to free Narnia of pirates. Susan the Gentle becomes Susan the Fierce, Narnia's sea-faring Robin Hood
1. Fire and Steel

My Lady the Pirate  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: Well, as much as this pains me to say, I don't own Narnia. Or England, actually...some day. Well, I supposed it's a good thing I _don't _own Narnia, or I'd probably screw everything up and have the 'Kings and Queens of Old' singing drinking songs or something equally stupid.

A/N: This takes place after Prince Caspian. This is a bit movie-verse-ish, since *gasp* I sort of like the movie better than the book. And yes, Caspian does have a role in this, but not a huge one. This is all about Susan. (And it's AU, people).

Chapter 1: Fire and Steel

Air raid sirens.

That was all that occupied Susan Pevensie's world at the moment. It was everywhere and everything.

Susan dashed into her room, checking to make sure that Lucy got out. Assuring herself that she had, Susan ran to her bedside table and grabbed her copy of _The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. _She knew that a night in the shelter would be a veritable hell, and that if she didn't have a book with her than it would only be worse. It seemed to her that the air raids would never end.

She drew a sharp breath as her foot caught on a bedpost, sending her tumbling to the ground. She tried to get up and cried out as her ankle collapsed beneath her. Swearing in an unladylike-like fashion (she didn't care, no one was around to hear her; they were all in the shelter by now), she grabbed the broom that was lying just outside the door, using it to pull herself up.

Dragging herself towards the door, Susan had to bite her lip to keep the pain in check. But she didn't stop or slow down; with the broom in one hand and her book in the other, she hobbled out, making for the safety of the Pevensie bomb shelter, stubbornly refusing to be denied by anything. She hadn't been crowned a queen of Narnia for nothing.

She held back a flinch as a bomb exploded a few meters from the house, shattering her bedroom window and sending shrapnel in all directions. Still cursing under her breath (she _had _spent quite a few years in the presence of centaurs and dwarfs), she dragged herself onward, out into the hall and through to the kitchen. The pole from the broom was sticking into her arm, but she made no move to shift it. As long as it got her to the shelter...

And then there was another explosion, and she was sent flying, the broom flying out of her reach and splintering into multiple pieces. She saw the flames all around her, the shards of everything that had been her home. She fell...

...and kept falling.

And then she landed on a dirt floor, still hearing the screams and the flames. But they weren't the same screams, they were different ones. And then she heard a sound that she had never expected to hear again:

Steel. The crash of steel on steel that, at any other time, would have brought tears of nostalgia to her eyes. But now, she couldn't think, couldn't see past the blurs of black and orange that surrounded her. She could see and feel people running past her, away from the flames. But the flames were everywhere..._everywhere..._

She felt a sharp pain in her head, and then a black pain captured her, engulfed her senses for no more than a moment.

But it was the last thing she felt that day.

* * *

A/N: You know, I (unofficially) swore to myself I'd never write a chapter quite that short, but I guess the plot bunnies have other ideas. Just so you know, chapters after this will always be at least twice this long. Well, review, tell me what you think. I'll update soon! (This is my first Narnia fic, so if I'm botching everything horribly, and this is complete rubbish, you can tell me that too.)


	2. Port Tarrow

My Lady the Pirate  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Narnia. What I DO own, is the _Sherwood _and her crew. And Port Tarrow. So; off you go. Happy reading.

Chapter 2: Port Tarrow

The first thing that Susan became aware of (as cliched as it sounded) was muted voices and scratchy sheets, as well as a tight bandage wrapped around her head. She reached up and gingerly touched the bandage, biting back a whimper as some of the pain made a reappearance, the same way last night's dinner was threatening with an encore.

Growling softly, she sat up, keeping her eyes closed so the light wouldn't make her headache worse. Then the voices started again, a little more heatedly. She could tell that she was hearing them through a thick wall and a closed door, and she assumed that it was just her siblings.

That made her frown. What had happened after she blacked out? Had Peter come and gotten her? This didn't _feel _like her bed; then she remembered the bomb, and sighed sadly. Their home had been demolished; they were probably staying with the neighbors or some such people.

"...no one _knows who she is, Claire. This is a small town, and we would have noticed if a stranger was in town. She must be one of _them_._"

Susan frowned, silently slipping out of bed to walk over to the door, pressing her ear against it. Just because it was an 'odious habit' (according to her mother), doesn't mean she was above it.

"_Nonsense! The girl is no more a pirate than you or I._"

"_Watch what you say, Claire. You never know who's listening._"

"_You mean the girl?_" added Claire in an amused voice.

_Oh snap, _thought Susan, quietly limping back over to the bed as quickly as she could. She could hear heavy footsteps moving swiftly towards her door. Just as she threw herself on the bed, the door opened, revealing a tall, dark man, with black hair and beard and a heavy frown.

Rolling his eyes, hand still on the doorknob, he yelled over his shoulder. "You're right, Claire," he said with a quiet '_as usual_'. "She's awake!"

Tucking her dark hair behind one ear--a nervous habit--Susan wrung the sheets in her hands, not quite understanding what was going on. Why didn't they know her? _Everybody _in Finchley knew each other. Where was Peter? And Lucy and Edmund? What about her mother, Helen?

_What is going _on _here?_

A short, plump, white-haired woman bustled into the room, carrying a bowl of water, and a towel over her arm. A wooden ladle hung from the apron at her waist. She fussed her way over to Susan, clucking in motherly concern. "There dear," she said, checking Susan's head. "You're safe now, don't you fret."

"Where are my siblings?" Susan asked, going for a blunt approach.

The woman--Claire--blinked. "Siblings?"

"Yes," said Susan. "Two brothers and a younger sister. And my mum. Where are they?"

The two strangers exchanged glances. Then the dark man said, "You were the only one, miss."

"The only what?" asked Susan, slightly impatient.

"The only stranger," answered Claire. "We recognized everyone else who was dead or injured. Well, we didn't know _them,_" she said, and spat, "but they're easy enough to recognize by their clothes."

"Where am I?" asked Susan. If no one recognized her, then she was a long way from Finchley.

"Port Tarrow, of course," answered Claire, frowning. "Is there something wrong, dearie?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Port Tarrow? W-where's Port Tarrow?" asked Susan, a bit of panic creeping into her voice.

Claire and the dark man exchanged glances, then the man said. "Tarrow is a shipping port on the eastern shores. We were attacked last night," Susan nodded; that at least was familiar. "By pirates," he finished. Susan's head snapped up, causing her head to pound mercilessly.

"Pirates?" It sounded more of a disbelieving statement than a question. "Not Nazi's?" The other two frowned, uncomprehending.

Then Susan froze, closing her eyes for a moment and holding up her index finger.

_Oh._

"Am I in Narnia?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes," came the two-way reply.

"Right," she said quietly. "That's perfect. That's just _perfect._"

Just when she had gotten used to the idea of staying in England, of back to being school-girl Susan, Aslan just _had _to throw her a curve ball. _'Not coming back', my foot! _She raged internally.

"I'm Mistress Claire," said the old woman, dabbing at Susan's now-unbandaged head. "If you've nowhere else to go, you'll be staying here." Susan admired and wondered at her boldness. "This lump over here," said Mistress Claire, jerking her head at the dark man, "is Doctor Barnes, the town surgeon."

Susan nodded slightly, trying not to aggravate her head too much. She had been in enough battles to know a concussion when she saw one. Or felt, as the case may have been. "Pleased to meet you both," she said politely.

"Likewise, miss," said Barnes, shaking her hand firmly.

"I'm Susan," she said, her manners going on auto pilot. "Susan Pevensie."

Mistress Claire and Dr. Barnes sucked in sharp breaths; the name was familiar to all Narnians.

"Susan Pevensie, as in, 'Queen Susan the Gentle', Susan Pevensie?" asked Doctor Barnes carefully.

"Yes," said Susan with a grimace. "But please don't stand on formality," she said in a pleading tone. "It's really no use at all, and it attracts far too much attention and awkwardness."

There was a moment of silence, then Claire shrugged and said, "Works for me."

* * *

As the week progressed, Susan was released from bed-rest (the diagnosis being a severely sprained ankle, a concussion, and malnutrition; not that the malnutrition was surprising, as no one in the war zone ever had enough to eat) and promised a show around the town.

"We'll ask Chit to take you around," said Mistress Claire on Susan's fifth day back in Narnia. "Or maybe Lawrence or Anna."

"Who?" asked Susan amiably through a mouthful of soup. After her primary irritation at being roped into something else by Aslan, Susan found herself all too happy to be back. After all, she had lived in Narnia longer than she had in England, technically.

"Chit Wikkons," answered Claire as she bustled around Susan's room, straightening things and fluffing pillows. "He's a cheerful fellow, just younger than yourself I'd say. Knows the town right well."

"What about the others you mentioned?" asked Susan, curious.

"Lawrence Wiles," said Claire with a dry chuckle. "Wily fellow. He likes nothing more than to show off a bit, though usually a duel better suits him than a tour, but he and that Anna know Port Tarrow better than Aslan hisself I'd imagine." Then, seeing the question in Susan's eyes, she added, "Anna's what you'd call a street urchin. No one really knows where she came from; doesn't have a last name, or if she does no one knows it. Sunny girl, though. In fact, I'd say all three are your age. Well, Lawrence may be a year or two older, but close enough. You'll get along smashingly, I'll wager."

"Whatever you say, Mistress Claire," said Susan, taking a sip of her tea. Mistress Claire liked to drink tea that was raspberry with enough sugar to kill a centaur (in Susan's opinion), and she assumed that everyone else liked theirs that way as well. Susan didn't mind; it tasted good to her, though the taciturn Dr. Barnes--or, Barnes, as he insisted on being called--would say different. _Much _different.

The next day brought along Chit Wikkons, as promised. Susan, who had been lent Narnian clothes by one of the villagers via Mistress Claire, was dressed and ready for a tour, anxious to be on her feet once more.

"G'day," said Chit sunnily, a smile on his freckled face. He was a thin gangly boy with an unruly mop of red hair, mismatched eyes (green and blue), and--Susan was startled to see--a wooden leg in place of his left one. She had enough diplomatic experience however to look past the fact and not bring any attention to it. "You must be Susan."

Susan nodded, glad to see that her two friends hadn't revealed her royal status. "Yes, I'm Susan. You must be Chit." This was confirmed with a sunny nod as he shook her hand.

"That's me. Ready for the grand tour?" at her eager nod, he smiled even wider and offered her his arm with a flamboyant gesture. "Shall we, m'lady?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Of course," she said, smiling. The boy's humor was infectious. Taking his arm, she was led out the door and into the streets of Port Tarrow.

* * *

A/N: Well, what'd you think? Reviews would be much appreciated, if you don't mind ;)


	3. Building Ships

My Lady the Pirate  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Port Tarrow, the _Sherwood, _and the townspeople (Susan excluded).

Chapter 3: Building Ships

After being led around the general part of the town, meeting several curious townspeople, and internally frowning at the amount of destruction caused by the raid, Susan was led to the town's pride and joy: the port itself.

Port Tarrow was located just a few miles south of Cair Paravel. It was surrounded on the north and south sides by high hills, and with a small forest to the direct west. To the east was, of course, the sea.

On this particular day, even the overcast weather couldn't hide the sea's glory and majesty. Though Susan had lived at Cair Paravel for many years, she never ceased to be amazed and rejuvenated at the very sight of the sea. The sparkling waters reached on for miles and miles, seemingly never ending. She had used every favor she could as a queen of Narnia to persuade her brothers and Narnia's sea captains to allow her to go on sea voyages; and on several occasions, she succeeded. But after one in particular, where the vessel in question had been caught in a particularly nasty storm, Peter had forbidden her to set foot on a ship again. She had been so angry that she wouldn't speak a word to Peter in two weeks.

"Susan?" asked Chit, looking slightly concerned. "Are you all right?"

Noticing that she had spaced out for a moment, Susan smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"D'you need me to go and get Barnes?" asked Chit reluctantly.

"No, no," said Susan hastily. "No need; it's just nice to see the sea again, that's all."

Placated and proud, Chit turned to look at the waters. "Yeah. She's a right beauty, she is."

"Yes," muttered Susan. "She certainly is."

"Well," said Chit quietly, looking around conspiratorially. "If y'like, I can show you the ship we're building."

Susan's eyes shone and she said eagerly. "Please do."

"Right then," said Chit, pleased. "This way, miss."

* * *

Upon reaching the sheltered area of the docks where Port Tarrow's ship was being constructed, Susan was greeted by the magnificent sight of a huge, dark ship, nearly finished. She knew enough about ship-building to know that it would be done in a few short weeks.

"It's beautiful," she said with feeling, walking towards it almost unconsciously. "What's it to be called?" she asked her guide.

"Dunno," said Chit, taking a bite out of an apple he had squirreled away. "No on knows, really."

"Is she a merchant ship?" asked Susan, then added, somewhat doubtfully. "If she is, she doesn't quite look it. No offense," she added quickly.

Chit raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "Oh, so you know about ships, d'you?"

Susan smiled. "I've studied," she said simply.

"You're right though," Chit plowed on. "She's not a merchant ship. She's a fightin' ship, she is."

"Oh?" was all Susan said, truly intrigued.

"Yeah," said Chit, suddenly grave. "We got lucky with that last raid. They didn't find her, see. That's what she's for, is fightin' pirates. One of the coastal lords ordered 'er built. 'E's gonna appoint a cap'n for 'er, then 'e'll come an' take 'er away." He gave a small sigh. "An' we were just gettin' along."

Susan smiled, Chit's humor still infectious. "Scorned," she said in a teasing voice.

"_Again,_" Chit said in mock-despair. "Every single time we build a ship..."

They shared a quick smile, then someone yelled, "Hey Chit!"

Looking over to the quarterdeck, they could see a waving figure; Chit waved back. "Oi, Loring!" He yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. "Got a minute?"

The figure waved back and nodded, disappearing from view. Half a minute later and they were sitting down on the crates on the dock with a tall, burly man. He was a burly, taciturn fellow, but Susan felt at ease around him; he reminded her of Orius, the centaur that instructed her brothers when the three of them and Lucy had come to Narnia for the first time.

"So, this is Claire's girl, is it?" he asked, looking Susan directly in the eyes, but speaking to Chit.

"Aye, this is 'er," Chit said cheerfully. "Loring, this is Susan. Susan, Loring." At seeing her slightly puzzled expression, he added, "We don't really bother with last names 'ere." She nodded.

"Hello," she said, shaking his hand. That was another thing she liked about being free from titles and palaces; the lack of formality. You could talk to someone without having to deal with their fear of royal retribution getting in the way.

"Nice to meet you, Susan," said Loring, nodding at her.

"Ah, Loring here," said Chit happily, "is the blacksmith here in Port Tarrow. Right good with a blade, 'e is."

Susan just stopped herself from saying 'I'll keep that in mind.' She would have said that in her time as queen, but now it would only make people suspicious.

"What about you?" asked Loring. "You good with any weapons?"

Susan smirked slightly, all thoughts of seeming innocent of weapons flying out the window. "You should hope you don't get on my bad side when I've got a bow in my hand," she advised; Loring gave a booming laugh, which she interpreted as approval, if Chit's beaming expression was anything to go by.

"I'll keep that in mind," Loring said with a dip of his head, stealing her line.

Susan smiled back, fully this time. She was starting to really like it here in Port Tarrow.

"So," she said, turning to glance at the ship. "Can you tell me about that ship?" she asked, truly curious. She had a deep love of ships, mostly born of her restriction from them by Peter. After all, the impossible was more tempting than reality.

"Can I?" repeated Loring. "I should think _so. _I am the one who designed it, after all." Motioning for Susan and Chit to join him, Loring walked towards the boarding plank to the ship.

Susan experienced a thrill as she walked aboard the unnamed ship. She relished the sound of her hollow-sounding footsteps as the plank stood, the only thing between her and the deep blue sea. She trailed her hand on the smooth wooden rails as she came aboard the ship, glancing around with a pang of nostalgia. She had forgotten how much she had missed this.

"Right," said Loring. "Well, you can see your typical ship anatomy here: quarterdeck, foremast, shrouds, gun deck, figurehead, captain's cabin..." Loring went through the ship, giving full detail to each part of the ship, much to Susan's delight. In turn, she stunned and amazed them with her own knowledge of shipbuilding and sailing.

After the full tour, they sat back on the docks during the building crew's lunch break.

"So, Susan," said Chit after swallowing a mouthful of stew. "What think you of Port Tarrow?"

"It's incredible," said Susan honestly. "I'm amazed at how quickly you've been able to build up that ship; two months, you say?" Loring nodded and Susan shook her head in admiration.

When it was time for Susan to head back ("I don't wanna be on the receiving end o' that ladle of 'ers," Chit had said gravely), Loring extended an invitation to Susan for the next day. "We need every pair of hands we can get," he said. "And since you know so much about ships..." he trailed off there, smiling a bit at Susan's broad grin.

"I'd like nothing more," she agreed with feeling.

* * *

A/N: Well, there's chapter three. Don't worry, I've got a few curve balls coming up in Ch. 4 ;)


	4. Order's Off

My Lady the Pirate  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the ship and the townspeople. Susan, the Pevensie's, and Narnia all belong to C.S. Lewis.

Chapter 4: Order's Off

Susan spent two weeks working on the ship with her new friends. There was, of course, Chit, Loring, Mistress Claire, and Barnes, but she also met Lawrence and Anna, the two teenagers that Mistress Claire had mentioned in Susan's first week of being in Port Tarrow.

Lawrence was taciturn and wraith-like, seeming to appear from shadows. He had long black hair, pale skin, and almost-black eyes. He was tall and thin, but also surprisingly strong (as proved by the day-to-day labor of shipbuilding, something that the townspeople had be doing for hundreds of years). Not appearing hostile, per se, he did have a certain intimidating aura about him.

Anna was a happy, chatty girl. She and Lawrence couldn't been siblings for the fact that Anna also had the same features; dark hair and eyes, pale skin, tall and thin. But she was a world apart once she opened her mouth. Anna was a happy, chatty girl, who liked nothing more than to talk to Susan for hours as they both worked. Susan didn't mind; she liked Anna very much.

And, just as predicted, the ship was finished three weeks after Susan's arrival in Narnia. It was a true sight to behold.

With furled sails and a healthily creaking hull, it swayed in the water, dark against the twilight of the cove. Susan stood with the rest of the townspeople, admiring the ship speechlessly. If it was possible to fall in love with a ship, she'd done it.

"She's a sight, ain't she?" asked Anna breathlessly, leaning over to whisper to Susan.

"Yes, she is," agreed Susan wholeheartedly. "I can't help but feeling sorry that we have to send her off," she confided regretfully.

"I know what you mean," agreed Anna with a sad sigh. "It's like that every time, you know. As soon as we finish a ship, we have to ship 'er off somewhere to someone who won't appreciate her half as much as we do."

"Mm," agreed Susan.

"Well," said Anna, cheering up, "Everyone's going to the tavern tonight to celebrate; come on!" Not giving Susan a chance to disagree even if she had wanted to, Anna linked arms with Susan, pulling her, laughing, to the tavern.

* * *

If Susan had thought she knew drinking songs from the sailors during her time as queen, she was in for a nasty shock. The people of Port Tarrow knew drinking rounds that would make even Edmund's ears curl (and Edmund was quite the cusser when he wanted to be), and took great delight in bellowing them from their perches on tables and bar stools. The more they drank, the louder they sang.

Susan was surprised that no brawls broke out, and said as much to Anna after a particularly drunken rendition of a ballad about a dwarf and a tree root.

"The people in Port Tarrow," began Anna with a distinct note of pride in her voice, "have been drinking strong liquor for longer than anyone can remember. He can hold our liquor better than anyone Narnian or Telmerine or anyone else. We're used to large amounts of alcohol consumption; we don't really fancy brawls. It just means more trouble."

And with that she threw back a shot glass and went back to watching the singers.

Only a few minutes later, a stranger in a black coat and hat walked through the door to the tavern. Turning curiously to him, Susan and Anna tried to eavesdrop as he talked to the barkeeper. The barkeeper's eyes bulged and his face went red.

"WHAT?!" he bellowed.

Everyone fell silent, looking to the furious man. Frowning, Loring picked his way from the crowd and made his way over to the two men, talking with them in hushed tones. The creak of chairs was highly audible as the entire tavern seemed to lean forward to try and catch a word or two of what was being said. After a few more minutes, Loring came back over, his face grim. With two words, he set the entire tavern in an uproar:

"Order's off."

Those two words meant that every minute of labor, every plank of wood, every nail, every chance of profit from the sale of the ship had flown out the window.

"What happened?" came Claire's voice over the din.

"Raid," answered the messenger; the tavern quieted down once more. "The town where the order came from was raided by pirate's not two days ago. The lord--I never learned his name--escaped, running towards the capital." He was subdued as dozens of angry stares were aimed his way. "I'm sorry," he said, blushing. "I was just sent along to give you the news." And with that, he made a hasty exit.

There was an immediate uproar once again as everyone seemed to voice their own individual opinions.

"We should sell her to the highest bidder! That ship is worth a fortune."

"We should go after the bastard! He placed the order, he should collect!"

"I say we sail 'er ourselves!"

"QUIET!"

Everyone felt silent, as was the intent of the speaker. Susan studied him with interest; she hadn't seen him in the port, and if he was a stranger, then she _definitely _would have heard about it (Anna took care in relating all of the information about goings-on in the town to Susan at every opportunity).

In fact, everyone else to know who he was; there was a respectful silence as the man walked into the center of the room, his boots thumping hollowly against the wooden floor.

"I agree that we should sail ourselves," he said; everyone remained silent. "We built this ship, it is our _right _to sail against the pirates. If no one else will be brave enough, then the task falls to us."

Susan found herself nodding in agreement, and saw several others reciprocating her actions. She was impressed; this man, whoever he was, was quite the speaker.

"All in agreement?" he said, not wasting any more time on words.

Nearly every hand in the tavern went up; Susan's eyes widened. Even _Peter _couldn't inspire a group of people with so few words, and he was the high king!

"Well then," said the man after a short pause. "That's settled. We sail in two days, at dawn."

He left the tavern, a reverent silence following in his wake. As soon as he was gone, everyone started talking in low undertones.

Anna grabbed Susan by the shoulder, twisting her around. Her face was flushed and excited.

"Well?" she asked breathlessly.

"Well what?" asked Susan, confused.

"Are you going?!" elaborated Anna impatiently.

"On the _ship_?!" asked Susan, stunned. Anna nodded.

Never before had someone asked Susan if she 'wanted' to go on a ship. The few times she had been allowed, she had had to beg and plead with Peter to let her go, and even then it took an age to get him to agree.

Yet here she was, with the opportunity laid at her feet, served on a silver platter, _hers to take._

She never even considered the prospect of refusing.

* * *

A/N: Well, now the plot is starting to take a bit of shape. Yes, Susan is going is fight pirates. (I know, I know; it's a bit cliche, but it'll get better!) Many many thank you's to volley07 and dancingqueensillystring for your reviews!!!

PS-If any of you want to read a REALLY good fanfic, check out Star Dragon Fire's _Across the Worlds _(it's a Narnia one). The link is on my profile page, at the top.


	5. The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships

My Lady the Pirate  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or Susan. I own Port Tarrow, the townspeople, and the ship. That's it.

Chapter 5: The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships

In her second year as queen, Susan had gone with her brothers to battle against the remainders of Jadis's army. It was a long and bloody conflict, but Susan found that war was also quite exciting. She felt horrible for feeling this, of course, but she couldn't really help it. After all, she was a warrior queen. She had thought that was the most exciting moment of her whole life, marching to war that day. Surely nothing could be more of a rush than _that._

She proved herself wrong.

She now thought that the best, most adventurous moment of her life was the few long moments where she walked up the gangplank and onto the newly-finished, yet-to-be-named ship.

After the initial shock that yes, women _were _allowed to sail here, Susan had immediately enlisted (so to speak), along with almost everyone else who were able. Among those she knew were Loring, Anna, Lawrence, Chit, Barnes (as the ship's surgeon) and as captain, the man from the tavern, who she had learned from Chit was called Lozelle.

She had been surprised to hear that he was actually of Telmarine descent; from what she had gathered in her last visit to Narnia, the Telmerine's in Narnia kept within close distance of the castle. And Port Tarrow was definitely not within that range.

_So he's either very _brave, _or very _stupid, she thought with a touch of humor. _But then again, isn't everybody nowadays?_

"Susan!"

Susan craned her neck towards the crow's nest of the ship, where Anna was standing, waving down at her. Susan cheerfully waved back, smiling sunnily. "Anna!" she yelled back. Anna made a 'stay there' gesture and began to shimmy her way down the shrouds to the deck below. Dropping her sack by a group of barrels on the quarterdeck, Susan leaned against the hull and waited for her friend to come down.

Watching Anna, Susan felt a stab of envy. Anna climbed down the shrouds like she was born to it; and these people walked on the ship looking so much at home. They had had this their whole _lives. _How Susan wished that could have been her life. As wonderful as being a queen had been, it lacked the one thing she had always been thirsting for: freedom.

There was a swift thud as Anna landed on her feet on the deck. Prancing over to Susan, she gave her a quick hug. "I'm so glad you're coming," she enthused. "I mean, it's nice sailing _period, _but there aren't many girls."

"Oh? An' what am I, then? A barrel of rum?"

They turned around to see Mistress Claire stepping on-board, followed by a few of the village boys who were carrying pots, pans, and crates.

"She drinks like one," muttered one of the boys, then he shrieked in pain as Claire walloped him on the head with her ladle. He teetered and fell off the plank and into the water. The other boys laughed as Susan gasped.

"Shouldn't we help him?!" she stuttered, appalled by their apparent disregard for the boy's safety.

"He can swim," said Claire dismissively, coming on board. "Now, where do I put the cooking equipment?" as she wandered off, Susan hurried to the rails to see the young boy swimming strongly towards the dock.

Yes; he _could _swim. He was holding his own, with no help, and no rules. Nothing but a cool breeze and the taste of saltwater.

_The taste of freedom.

* * *

_Susan sat on the rails on-deck, watching the fading horizon of Port Tarrow and the forest and craggy cliffs behind it. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, breathing in the salty-sweet sea air. She remembered someone saying _sea air is the best cure for anything._

_Well, whoever he was, he was dead-right, _thought Susan seriously.

"Enjoying the view?"

Susan turned her head curiously; it was Lawrence, walking up behind her. She was surprised; Lawrence had never spoken to her directly, and she didn't see any reason why he would now.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "I've forgotten how wonderful being at sea is."

He looked at her shrewdly. "You've been at sea before?" he asked.

Susan nodded, trying not to look as tense as she had just become. "I went on one or two merchant voyages," she said vaguely.

"I see," he said suspiciously. Then, unexpectedly, he changed the topic. "So why did you decide to come, anyways?"

Susan had to pause a moment to consider that herself. "Well," she said finally. "I suppose I just want to help, mostly. Everyone in Port Tarrow has been unreservedly kind to me. It seems the _least _I can do." She paused to smile grimly. "And I look a good tussle," she said, referring to the inevitable fight between them and the pirates.

Lawrence nodded, smiling slightly, a twinkle in his eyes. Susan knew somehow that she had won his approval.

_Now it's just the matter of the rest of the crew and then some.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry, I know it's short. And thank you to reviews and such! Reviews are good, people! Within the next chapter or two, they arrive in the town and receive some...'unsavory' results, including a change of leadership.


End file.
